Wishful Thinking
by unicoranglais
Summary: You really shouldn't go wandering around darkened theme parks at night – and yet, that's exactly what happened in the case of Mokuba Kaiba. ((Stepshipping for Round 1 of the YGO Fanfiction Contest; crossover elements with Naruto, but can be read without knowledge of it.))


**Length:** About 2100 words.

**Handicaps: **None will be applied for this Season of the Contest, unless I honestly feel like it - I'm already stressed out enough, hmm?

**Warnings: **Heavily implied Stepshipping (Noa x Mokuba), and it's a Naruto crossover – _sort of_. Though the piece takes place in YGO's early–manga canon, and can be read with no knowledge of the Naruto series, Naruto's a distinct influence here, and there's a ton of sly references. Basically, if it's related to ninja in any way, it's more than likely to be a Naruto reference.

**Spooner Says: **Ahahahaha... no. Not a piece I'm very proud of, but... I... actually _really __don't like_ this ship (that's a first)? And I never watched the anime, so I... uh, don't know much about Noa, aside from his playing violin? And I really like the Naruto games, so I went for those here?

But hey, it was either this or nothing~ Try to enjoy it, hmm?

* * *

**Wishful Thinking**

The night is cold, the night is still; silent, but for the occasional creak of the bench when he shifts his weight. Small and dark–haired, he is almost invisible against the backdrop: the shadowy form of Kaiba Land towers over him, imposing even in the sleep he knows it will never wake from. Flags that for a single, glorious, _fleeting _moment fluttered in the breeze, now hang as limply as his head does; as he sits, as he thinks, as he cries. Because he is a Kaiba, the _last _Kaiba (the others, all gone, taken by car and car_d game_), he tries to keep his sobs soft, his head high, emotions invisible – but all too soon, he can't take the pain, so he's hunching back over, crying again, crying and crying and crying...

...and once upon a time, he would have been helped to his feet – that is the worst part of all, because _once upon a time_ was just this morning, though it feels like an eternity since he lost that happy world. When he walks, rumors fly about him like startled game–birds, just as they always have – but once, once, _once upon a goddamn time_, Big Brother would have been there to shoot them down for him; rifle making noises all out of 't's and 'sh's and 'p's (sh–shut, shut up, shut up shutupshaddupsHUTUP), until the whispers were silent. Now, there is nothing to hold onto; no stern voice to shout down the others, just doubts and bullies to voice them, bullies that hide in this dark night, one around every corner, each more imaginative than the last – a 'ninja' around this corner (a jogger in an orange tracksuit and a bread–knife in one hand), a 'mugger' down that alleyway (some guy with a baseball bat in one hand, his hoodie pulled high to shelter the fluffy puppy he carries on his head), and he panics, and he flees, and he _trips_, and _no no no–_

_–I'm safe now, safe, safe, safe_, he tells himself over and over again, even though he's cowering on the ground – and he is safe now, of course he is! Yes, here in his high (rickety) castle, he's safe from the shadows of things he's only ever seen in games, games Big Brother would have beaten, if only he was still he – no, things he _will _beat, for Big Brother's wandering soul is still in the bricks and benches of Kaiba Land. The gate shuts behind him with a screech of rusty hinges and a rather final clang, but he refuses to acknowledge the shivers down his spine – instead, he climbs to his feet, safe and sound, standing in a place where every little thing was something Big Brother planned – from the way the Blue Eyes White Dragon statue lunges forever towards the sky, to the way the place creaks and groans in its sleep, creaks, groans and _shudders, hissing pneumatics like hissing monsters, something growls and something **moves**–_

He doesn't hang around to try detailing the rest – instead, he turns tail and flees, smacks into the gate, liquid dribbling down his left cheek as he sprints the other way, since there's really no choice – he runs straight into the darkness of Big Brother's glorious project, only now it's not so glorious, just a mess of strange and confusing objects he has to feel his way around in the pitch–black. The place is _alive_, too, Big Brother's spirit evidently becoming restless at his little brother's presence in his noisy kingdom; gears groan and engines hum around the boy as a hundred different thrill rides quietly go about their business, a soft whistling of steel on steel as the kiddie coaster makes its endless rounds in the dark. He wanders amongst it all for what feels like an age, not really knowing where he's going but going there anywhere, bumping into objects and praying that nothing runs him over as he rounds the next corner–

**"GRAAAAAAAAWWWWWWRR!"**

"Gyaaaaaaahhh!" he screeches, reeling back from the large–as–life–Blue–Eyes White Dragon spewing holographic flames in his face. By the time he's recovered, blinking and looking about himself, the creature's gone; he's all alone, in a room the size of a small bedroom, dimly lit and oddly quiet by Kaiba Land's standards – oddly _empty_, too. The walls are a plain white, and there's not a Blue–Eyes White Dragon in sight; which considering Kaiba's usual choice of deco, is unusual indeed. In one corner, a scuffed and battered arcade machine sits, half its stickers peeling off; since it's the only object in the room, he wanders over to it, running trembling fingers over its bumpy surface.

_Big Brother... Did you put this here?_

**_Beepity bleep, blee–bleeepity bleepeep ba–bleeeep!_**

**N.E.W... G.A,M.E?**

Odd; the machine seems to have come to life at his touch, beeping some theme song or other as it displays orange letters on a background – all in all, something a thing of its age surely shouldn't have been able to do, not possessing a touchscreen. Still – looking over his shoulder, all he sees is the plain little room, and darkness trying to cram as much of itself as possible into the doorway; there's no going back, so why not have a little game while he waits for his men to come with torches (because come _on_, there's no way they wouldn't care about Big Brother's little brother, let alone betray him by not coming to his aid when he requested it – that's just silly). Squinting, he reads the faded title of the arcade machine's game –

**NA,UTO: ULTIM,TE NINJA STO,M 2**

– stiffens when he realizes what it _means._

_The first game Big Brother ever beat, huh...? _

**N.E.W... G.A,M.E?**

_This game's almost as impatient as Big Brother!_

He snickers softly at the thought, but it dies to a whimper after a few seconds, when he realizes just how scared and lonely he sounds. It's just the room's horrible acoustics, he tells himself – just the low, flat ceiling that's introducing that little inflection into his dialogue, that little _sob–_

**N.E.W... G.A,M.E?**

"_Stuff _you!" he screams, without warning, without really meaning to – it just _sounds _right in his head (though utterly pathetic out loud – as the room's horrific acoustics remind him, only a little kid would resort to _that_ kind of language, in _that _kind of tone). One fist slams down onto the cabinet, its owner instantly wishing that it hadn't; the resulting whimper's even worse than the earlier scream, and the machine mocks him with a long series of _bleepity–bleeps_, mixed with his impressive array of four–letter words_. _Two little characters appear on the screen, standing on a mountain of some description – one's a somewhat–pixilated, dark–haired emo boy, the other an equally–pixilated, dorky blonde guy in a tracksuit – both of them carrying knives and wielding paper bombs, because apparently in the game's world, this is completely logical. He snorts angrily at them, and is about to turn his back on them, but... _well._

**SASUKE:** **Get out of my way, Naruto! I _have_ to become stronger th,n my big brother!**

**NARUTO: No! I–I won't let you see Orochimaru!**

**FIGHT!**

And _screw _who Orochimaru is, screw who Sasuke is, double–screw who Naruto is – at the mention of **brother**, the boy turns on the machine with a vengenance, putting his full weight into his every button–press as he controls 'Sasuke' (the dark–haired emo–boy) in his battle, beating 'Naruto' to a complete pulp right there on top of the mountain, in a flurry of blows that probably would have been impressive (and thus, ornately described), had Mokuba not seen far better graphics a thousand times before. Much to his surprise, the other boy, though unconscious, can still be picked up and punched after the fight; ergo, he decides to have 'Sasuke' take the liberty of chucking 'Naruto' off one of the many cliffs present on this mountain.

His only regret, then, is that the blonde jerk in the orange jumpsuit isn't awake, so he doesn't scream as he travels down the long road to oblivion. For moment, as he does it, he thinks he hears something go _snap _a long, long way, but thinks little of it – he just keeps going, beats up more people, in the wonderfully monotonous tradition all fighting games eventually boil down to – beat up this guy, then _this _guy, learn a new move from 'Orochimaru', beat him up too, punch a guy with glasses in the face (very satisfying!), move along, beat up possible allies so they join you, get bored of them, beat them up so they'll stop stalking you –

–_Big brother!_

He looks like Big Brother sometimes, that's the creepiest part; his shape shifts as he talks, so that sometimes he is 'Itachi', and sometimes...

**ITACHI: We meet at last... little br,ther.**

**SASUKE: You watch! I–I'll kill you this time!**

"No, no! Th–that's not necessary!" He sags against the games machine, talking to it, even though he doesn't know why – "Big brother, I don't wanna kill you, just... beat you. It's just a game, don't you se–"

**ITACHI: It is _you _w,o does not understand... It _is_ a game. To lose is to die. **

He has all of two seconds to comprehend that _yes_, 'Itachi' is looking at him, and _yes,_ 'Itachi' just answered his question, before the image on the screen flickers; there's a new person standing besides 'Itachi' – oh no, make that Big Brother – and the new person is smirking.

**NOA: He'lo, Mokuba.**

He stretches out a hand; pixilated fingers seeming to be so much closer.

**NOA: Come with me. I'm your brother. **

"N–no you're not!" he snarls, and Noa flinches, drawing his hand back.

**NOA: I–I am, too! I was Gozaburo's son – I lived in your house, but the week before you came, I was killed in a terrible accident. I watched you grow up–**

"I don't trust you! I only trust Big Brother!" he screeches, loyal to the end – and the end it is, for Noa's lip curls in a smug smile, right before he delivers thirteen words that break his heart.

**NOA: Trust...? You would have _killed Big Brother's spirit_, had I let him fight. **

"I... I..."

**NOA: Come. He'll f,rgive you if you do, I promise.**

Noa reaches out once more, and he blinks, reaching for the cold glass–

_"Mokuba!"_

The background noise of the theme park abruptly stops, the dim light switches off, the machine instantly shuts down – and a moment later, five enormous men in suits come barreling into the room with torches shining and ties flapping

_"Mokuba, it's time to come home"_, one of them says, a heavy hand on his shoulder as he stares emptily at the chance he just lost, wondering if it was ever even there – a 'product of an overactive imagination', perhaps. The nice lady in the jacket with the big nose reckons he's been having an awful lot of those, lately – and hey, a psychotic sleepwalking experience would sure explain why the hell he's in his pajamas (and no, he didn't realize this until after his bodyguards had arrived - it wasn't like he could pay much attention to what he was wearing in the dark).

"I don't _wanna_", he pouts, the epitome of a spoiled child; he's not about to show _weakness _to his servants (even though they're all taller than him, he's a Kaiba, and what he says is law, and-)

_"Don't be like that, Mokuba. Master Pegasus wants to meet you tomorrow, and it's late."_

His face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning; because Pegasus is coming, Maximillion Pegasus, the legendary creator of Duel Monsters, a _celebrity_ \- and so, he misses the subtle warning that the word 'Master' implies._ "The_ Mister Pegasus?"

_"The very same."_

But even as he's led away (back through the dark maze and back out a gate spattered with his own blood, then into an unsafe car, which takes them back down unsafe streets, the trip finishing with him walked him back into an unsafe bedroom in an unsafe mansion), Mokuba Kaiba quietly promises that he'll go back to the machine someday. Tomorrow, maybe, he'll sneak out of school again, and he'll...

...but of course, he never will, and he knows it even as he promises-

– he'll have far better things to do with his time, y'see.

Exploring a theme park in the dead of night?

More like paperwork til midnight.

_Wishful thinking_, that is.

.

.

.

...but still, the

game, it

_calls..._

_******...******_

_************...N...?************_

_******************NEWGAME?******************_

**N.E.W... G.A,M.E?**

**.**

**.**

**.**

_and they say sometimes, he sleepwalks._

_and they wonder where he goes_

_and they ask- does he _go__

_ to that place? (He just_

_laughs, and then_

_he walks_

_away.)_

_._

_but_

_could he be_

_sleepwalking? That's-_

_none of their damn business._


End file.
